


Fruit Bats

by Rainbowraptor



Series: ZaDr Phase 3 [2]
Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Band Fic, Canon-Typical Violence, Concerts, Emo, High School, M/M, No Underage Sex, Paranormal Investigators, Teen Romance, Underage Drinking, Underage Drug Use, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:33:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25414723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainbowraptor/pseuds/Rainbowraptor
Summary: Rawr means "I love you" in dinosaur. And, apparently in space lizard too. Both Dib and Zim are in high school and deeply into the emo scene. They must deal with their new teenage feelings about themselves and each other. Also, there's a rock band who are actually a bunch of vampires. That might be important too.
Relationships: Dib/Zim (Invader Zim)
Series: ZaDr Phase 3 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1838896
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	1. Rawr

**Author's Note:**

> For the Emo/Scene and Cryptids prompts for ZaDr phase 3. Enjoy. No real warnings here except teens being teens and tons of emo fashion. Omg, XD so much emo stuffz. 
> 
> Thank my sister for much of this, the lead singer of the Fruit Bats is actually after her so, bwhahahaha!
> 
> Enjoy!

It's exactly at 3 pm when Zim set a building on fire. The building wasn't a large building or even that important. It was old, dusty, and barely together even before Zim dumped a whole entire massive, comically large can of oil on to it and lit it up with an equally comical tiny match. 

Dib still found himself standing in front of the huge blaze, glaring up at the cackling alien dangling from, what had to be, a stolen helicopter. He couldn’t just ignore this, no matter how stupid and kinda harmless it was. "Zim?!?" Dib yelled.

Zim paused in his laughter. "Ah, Dibbeast. Good of you to come. You're too late, I have already annihilated this great source of entertainment!!"

Dib raised an eyebrow. "Zim, no one is getting any entertainment from  _ that _ , at least since the 90s, it was just a Blockbuster!" He groaned and glanced down at his phone. 3:15pm. He'd have to book it home to get ready for the concert. 

"Yes! I  _ did _ bust this block!" Zim cackled. "Get it? Dib! Dib?! You get it?!" 

Dib looked up and resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "No one cares." He said.

Zim gasped. 

Dib did roll his eyes then."Can we wrap this up? I got plans tonight."

"Plans? What plans?" Zim asked, clearly jealous.

Three things had happened after the Florpus. One, Zim had gotten less concerned with being caught, specifically, by Dib. Two, Zim's plans were basically…

Well just really, really dumb, even for Zim. And weird. And  _ mostly _ victimless. 

Like, a few weeks ago, Zim had filled Dib's locker with nothing but jelly beans and a single stuffed rabbit. Not a stuffed animal bunny but an actual stuffed rabbit. It had been very embarrassing, going in for his bio textbook only to find the badly dyed pink taxidermy critter.

And three, around two years ago, Zim had started acting very strangely. Well more than usual. Clingy? No, not the right word. Like he actually wanted to be around Dib. Hell, the space roach had stopped by Dib's house so many times. At first it was too mock Dib by stealing his trash or some equally stupid ass shit. Then Dib would find Gaz playing video games with Zim or even catch Zim and Gaz doing  _ makeup _ together. Gaz would go missing from her room only to arrive, late in the night, lugging her guitar and a few bags. “Where were you?” Dib asked but only got a middle finger and Gaz’s pierced tongue stuck out, “At Zim’s, music therapy.” She told him and slammed her door in the face of his questions. Sure, Dib had tried to discover more but this was  _ Gaz _ and Dib’s paranormal investigative skills were nothing faced with his teenage sister’s wrath. 

Once, Zim had come over with a weird cake topped with fifteen eyeballs, blue moths stuck to it, and a huge smile. 

"For my greatest nemesis ever!" Zim proclaimed.

"Why?" Dib asked.

"It's your horrible emergence day, correct? The Dib is...fifteen?" Zim said, after counting on his three clawed hands.

"Yeah but-" Dib had tried.

"Take the cake!" Zim had yelled then ran away, waving his arms wildly.

Dib  _ had _ taken the cake and tossed it in the trash, hoping that the eyeballs were fake or at least not as human as they seemed. A part of him  _ was _ touched. Zim remained the only one who ever regularly remembered his birthday, aside from Gaz. Dad tried but not nearly as much as Zim did. Which...was all manner of not OK. 

Now, watching as Zim jumped from the helicopter and jetted down to stand next to him, Dib had a traitorous thought that the alien had actually managed to be kinda cool. "Plans? Tell Zim about these plans?" Zim demanded.

Firefighters and hospital vans arrived, trucks wailing past Dib and Zim, not bothering to say anything to either. Yeah, still a world populated by idiots. Even the police, who screeched not too far behind the men and women in red and white didn’t even bother looking at the two teens, both dressed in black and kinda sketchy looking, only feet away from the inferno. The whole thing sent a spike of intense, familiar rage through Dib. He thought about pointing at Zim and yelling, “THIS BOY IS ACTUALLY AN ALIEN AND HE STARTED THE FIRE, ARREST HIM!!!” But that hadn’t worked and it was never going to. Plus, in the event they did actually listen, Gaz would kill him. He, instead, turned on Zim.

"I'm not telling you!" Dib shouted at Zim. "You'll just try to mess it up like you do everything in my life!" 

Zim scowled. "Zim messes up nothing!"

Behind them, there was a sudden woosh, the sound of glass exploding. Zim's helicopter had crashed into the ancient Blockbuster and the whole thing blew. The fire swelled, the building collapsed, a few people yelled in fear. 

Dib gave Zim a deadpan stare as he pulled out his pair of alien restraining cuffs. "Hurry and start running, I gotta be home by 5."

Zim grinned and took off. 

Despite his frustration, Dib found himself smiling too. On the inside, no sense giving Zim the satisfaction. It was complicated. Dib was angry but as he fled after the alien throughout the city, he was also excited. It had been so long since he’d chased his alien. “What the hell?” Dib asked himself.

“What did you say Dib-beast?” Zim asked, using his PAK legs to scale a wall.

“Nothing Space Boy.” Dib answered, using some cool parkour tricks he learned from online to follow, his black jacket not slowing him down in the slightest. 

Dib climbed over fences, pushed through hobos, dodged a random pack of french fries Zim tossed at him, and managed to keep pace with Zim, all the way back to their neighborhood, not even panting. Dib’s legs had gotten much longer and besides, this was something he had done since age eleven, hunting down Zim and Dib’s other interests had honed his body into a lean, mean, cryptid hunting machine. He leapt over a fallen garbage can with ease and finally, finally managed to tackle Zim to the grass, just outside Zim’s house.

The gnomes didn’t so much as look at Dib, only stood there, looming, creepy with their dead eyes, in the dimming light of the oncoming evening. Another thing to add to Dib’s list of changes about Zim. Another one was the way Zim didn’t seem to be too much interested in fighting back as Dib sat on top of him. It didn’t make any damn sense. And Dib didn’t like things that didn’t make sense.“Why are you being so weird lately?” Dib asked Zim, hands gripping Zim’s wrists. Dib noted the odd assortment of colorful bangles there and the fact that each of Zim’s claws were painted a sparkly purple and green. Gaz’s influence no doubt. 

On one level, Dib found it vastly silly, annoying, insulting, how dare Zim just add layers to his disguise. How dare Gaz, his  _ sister _ , help Zim look more like regular human teens. But on another level...Dib found it kinda... _ cute _ the way Zim’s purple eyes were lined with eyeliner, even if that eyeliner had probably come from Dib’s own room. Dib was still Zim’s enemy, the Blockbuster attack may have been pathetic yet it was a reminder of Zim’s chaotic nature. Dib wasn’t about to just ignore Zim’s bullshit  _ all _ the time simply because the alien looked pretty damn good in tight black jeans, a green plaid shirt, and…

Dib blushed and his mind froze.  _ Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. _

Zim scoffed, obviously not noticing Dib’s...reaction. He flicked his hair so the huge lock of green streaked hair got out of his right eye. It simply shifted to his left. “Don’t know what you mean. I’m normal, a normal human teen.”

_ Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.  _ Dib thought. What was wrong with him? Zim looked ridiculous. Plus, it was  _ Zim _ . But it seemed, up close, Dib found the space lizard actually...oh shit, shit. Betrayal from his own mind. Curse these teenage hormones!!! He was Earth’s protector. He couldn't fall for the  _ enemy _ no matter how adorably stupid- _ fuck, stop it brain, he isn’t cute, he isn’t sexy, he’s a space roach, and...wait, why is Zim’s face getting kinda purple, is he blushing? Oh shit, don’t tell me… _

“I just said that all out loud didn’t I?” Dib groaned. 

Zim blinked. For once in the five years since arriving on Earth, the Irken seemed speechless. It didn’t last for longer than a split second. Zim grinned, his eyes lit up. “YOU FIND ZIM CUTE?!!?!?” He shouted at the top of his...well, whatever the fuck Zim had instead of lungs, a squeedlyspooch.

Dib leapt off Zim and sputtered, he flailed for a bit, pulling at his hair so hard he was sure he was going to tear something. He winced. “I...uh, no, I uh, meant.” How the hell was he going to end this, Zim would used this against him, Dib was sure, and oh fuck, this was not shiny, not shiny at all. Dib coughed and looked away from Zim. “Look, it doesn’t mean anything, you Irkens don’t feel love and shit anyway, it’s just human emotions, they,” he tried laughing, “are weird remember? Yeah, fucking stupid.”

Zim was still smiling as he stood. He started laughing.

It wasn’t scary actually, not a manic, evil, lookatmedestroyingshit kinda thing. It was kinda like the one Dib had seen when Gaz was helping Zim pick out clothes or that one time when Dib caught Zim petting Gir. The laugh was adorable. 

_ Fucking shit _ , Dib wanted the pull a Tallest and fall into a Florpus hole. 

“Zim thought so and I wanted to tell you...um,” Zim looked slightly uncomfortable and maybe even a bit scared. It was a sight Dib rarely saw from Zim that didn’t involve water, meat food products, people in costumes, and/or germs. “Zim wanted to tell you…”

“What?” Dib asked. He hated this, the unknowing, the foreign feeling of  _ hope  _ rising up, up in his chest. He swore, if this was just another one of Zim’s tricks, he’d forget Gaz and Zim’s odd change for the better and eviscerate Zim here and now. 

“Rawr.” Zim said.

Dib stared. “What?”

Zim snarled. “Fool, are your big ears not working? Zim said,” here, Zim cleared his alien throat, “Rawr!” He said again.

Dib blinked. “I...I don’t understand.” 

Zim hissed. “Rawr! Rawr! Rawr!” He stomped his little foot, clenched his fists, and repeated the word, over and over again. 

Dib panicked, remembering the chaos that could ensue from a Zim breakdown. “I don’t get what you’re trying to say, speak English, hell, I even know a few words in Irken so if you just-”

Zim suddenly used his PAK legs to bring his face to Dib’s. Dib feared he was about to find out that, yes, all these fashion choices and moves to become Gaz’s gal pal was all to get close to Dib and now Zim was going to kill Dib and-

Lips, surprisingly warm and soft, grazed Dib’s and then, a tongue, strong, scaly, pressed up, flicking forcefully. Dib opened his mouth and suddenly he and Zim, his greatest enemy, his biggest rival, his best friend, and his secret crush, were swapping spit. 

When they parted, Zim looked at Dib, with eyes hooded by eyelids, all dusted with shimmery purple eye-shadow and licking his lips once before putting that delightfully long and creepy tongue away. “Rawr.” Zim said, breathy and with a low growl. 

It finally clicked like this…

  1. Alien
  2. Lizard
  3. Dinosaur
  4. Rawr
  5. Emo
  6. Rawr



“Oh.” Dib paled. “I...I…” He was at a loss. It didn’t feel like a trick, not at all. It didn’t taste like a trick. He was panting now, this was something he’d never really dealt with and look, sure he’d had a thing with Zita but that had crashed a burned when Dib had basically accused her mother of being a werewolf and Zim was, well, Zim, and so what if Dib maybe had felt a certain way about the alien before, it didn’t mean that, well, he, he couldn’t have, it was a phase, a glitch, a mistake, no way this could be happening and-

“You wanna go to a concert with me?” Dib asked. He wasn’t sure why, he couldn’t imagine Zim actually enjoying being surrounded with tons and tons of filthy humans and loud noises. But after that kiss and standing here, so close to Zim...Dib didn’t want to simply just leave, avoiding shit was his dad’s thing. Dib ran towards problems. Or something. Plus, the kiss...Zim...Dib thoughts were tangling like wire. He was pretty sure it was close to 6 by the quickly vanishing light. “It’s usually not my thing, you know, those things are just a waste of time but I’m pretty sure the band, the Fruit Bats, are actually all vampires and I need to get evidence for the Swollen Eyeballs.”

To Dib’s surprise, Zim laughed, again, with that strange, happy laugh.

“Fruit Bats!? Yes! Of course, Zim would love to!” Zim withdrew his PAK legs and began to hum what Dib knew to be one of the band’s most famous songs. “I’ll go get ready!” Zim cackled a familiar plotting cackle. 

Dib chased after Zim, trying to ignore a pang of apprehension amidst his love-sickness, “Wait, Zim, we gotta leave like, now, the concert starts at seven and-”

Zim didn’t even look back, “Nonsense, plenty of time Dib-beast. We can get ready and then use Zim’s Voot to reach the Fruit Bat’s coordinates with time to spare for your massive headed self to scope out the grounds before the opening band has finished playing!” Again, an unnerving laugh. 

Dib was both relieved to hear the familiar evil giggle and also alarmed. “Zim, please promise me you aren’t going to like...oh, say, blow up the concert hall. Or crash into the stage. Or turn the audience into mindless zombies.” 

Zim gasped, offended. He turned around, standing on his front stoop. Gir had his face pressed to one of the windows, tail wagging like crazy. “Why, Dib, that’s horrible. Fruit Bats is Zim’s favorite band, I’d never destroy them. When I conquer this  _ disgusting _ planet, I’ll need them to play for me. Also, zombies are your thing.” 

Dib rolled his eyes and groaned. “It was just one time! And I apologized to Gaz!” 

Zim opened up the door and walked inside. 

Gir greeted them both. “Master!! And Dib, hi Mary, I made blueberry muffins, want some?!” He held up an actually nice looking pastry. It smelled good. At least it had to be much better than the thing Zim had made. 

Dib winced. “No, actually, I uh, gotta go get ready for-”

“Nonsense!” Zim said. “Zim has plenty of human stuff for preparing thanks to the Scary One!” He looked back at Dib, again, eyes slightly closed.

Dib felt his heart skip and his face flush. He knew from experience that Zim had all manner of para investigation worthy equipment, a ton of it actually pretty cool. To turn down Zim was one thing but to also pass up a chance to use alien tech to take down vampires? Fuck that noise. “You got a hair straightener in there?”

Beside Zim’s feet, Gir pulled out three very slick looking flat irons, face all determined. 


	2. Skittles

“What changed?” Dib asked. He was crammed awkwardly beside Zim, trying his best not to scream out in frustration, cramped wailing at his back and legs being forced into such a painful crouch. Zim had finally stopped his nervous chatter about how he’d once been subject to endure worship by a cult of nutty UFO humans in the very park they were now flying over. “I mean...I don’t get it.”

Zim narrowed his purple eyes. “Nothing changed.” Zim said. “Zim is perfect.” 

Dib frowned. “No, I don’t mean that, I mean, it was like, after the Florpus and you went away again but then you came back and things were, well, you were different. You’re different. Don’t tell me you grew a heart or something.”

Zim said nothing.

_ Weird.  _ Dib thought and his curiosity raged. “And Gaz, what’s up with that? What’s music therapy?”

Suddenly, the Voot was spinning, wildly, doing a sharp barrel roll and Dib crashed hard into the side of the ship. Pain lanced one of his arms and if Dib wasn’t made of stronger stuff, he was sure he’d have snapped a bone, as it was, he was glad the ship was actually small. “Why?” He cried.

Then Voot came to an abrupt stop mid-air. Dib flew at Zim who didn’t even look at him. “What the fuck, Zim?!” 

Zim was all smiles again. “Ah, we’re here!” He said and leapt up, using his PAK legs to easily out run Dib as the human reached to strangle his date. 

“Wait, answer my question, what is music therapy?” Dib pressed, climbing out of the ship, trying his best to calm himself down. He carried the borrowed pink and grey shoulder bag emblazoned with what used to be the Irken symbol though it was covered in various buttons probably stolen from Cold Topic and song lyrics written in sharpie. Inside, Dib had thrown in a potent mixture of garlic, a Vortian plasma pistol that Zim and Dib had modified to fire stakes, and, most importantly, well, according to Zim, a huge jumbo bag of Skittles. Dib theorized that part of the reason Zim had actually wanted Dib around was to have someone to carry his snacks who wouldn’t devour them. It wouldn’t be the first time Zim managed to trick Dib for his own reasons. 

_ Damn, stop thinking like that, Zim said “Rawr” _ . Dib thought. 

Outside, Dib noticed that Zim had parked the Voot right between a small Toyota and a beat up Honda. Wow, Zim really had gotten confident that the humans were all idiots. He blinked, thinking how it was so damn strange that this fact was actually protecting...well,  _ whatever _ it was they had.

“Hurry Dib-smelly, we need to get an optimal spot for our mission.” Zim said, glancing back with that damn cute look. Plus, there were so many fireflies drifting about and around the alien and with that blaze of the nearby outdoor stage lights,  _ fuck _ . Better still, “ _ our mission _ ?” Dib’s protests died away. 

_ “Rawr.” _ Dib thought.

Dib caught up to Zim and they made their way to the center of the park.

As Zim had promised, the Fruit Bats hadn’t taken to the stage, instead, an unknown band played to a teaming mass of teens. The angst layered vocals boomed from the microphone and Dib could feel every boom and chord of the music. He could smell the rank stink of strong, good pot, alcohol, sweat, and part of him wouldn’t mind a hit himself or at least a taste of nicotine. They stopped walking once they were close enough to have a clear view of the stage but also were a little outside the worst of the throng. A few mosh pits had already broken out and Dib, for some dumbass reason, wanted to really break free from Zim and just dive in or even turn on Zim and start a fight. But, as they got closer, that jerk streak Dib had always had gave way. He felt something tugging at one of the sleeves of his coat and looked down. Zim had gotten close to Dib and, with one claw, was fidgeting with Dib’s jacket.

“You OK?” Dib asked. He had to yell a little over the music.

Zim swallowed. “Of course, Zim is an Irken, we don’t fear anything, even stinking, smelly human crowds!” He let out a laugh, a frankly weird and unsettling laugh. A laugh that Dib recognized, both because he’d heard Zim do it before and because Dib had laughed the same way many, many times. 

Dib didn’t like seeing Zim like this at all. This fact shocked the teen somewhat. Things had really changed then. “Maybe this was a bad idea.” Dib said. “We can go back, I mean, if you don’t like-”

Zim turned around and hissed, sharp and angry, pupils made into twin black thin slits, tongue lashing, teeth bared. “Zim is not weak!” He said.

“No, I didn’t fucking mean you’re weak, I just mean you are obviously not liking this and as much as I love seeing you suffer,”  _ Lies, _ Dib thought.  _ Why am I lying like this? Habit? _ “-this is just sad.” Dib snapped back. 

“The Fruit Bats haven’t even played one song and Zim is fine. Perfectly fine! Despite you and your wormy kind!” Zim scoffed. “TheDib made this date, you won’t get out of it that easily!” He gave Dib a sly grin. “Afraid to let your new mate see you succumb to these  _ vampires _ ?” 

“Mate? Hey, hey, this is our first date.” Dib sputtered. He winced at the accidental rhyme. Dib was both glad and disappointed there wasn’t a puddle for Dib to push Zim into.  _ Damn it, stop it brain, pick a lane _ .  _ Fuck, enough! Stop being uncool. _

Some girl with pink hair and about four of her friends let out a squeal. “Oh my god, congrats! You are such a cute couple!!!” Pink hair screamed over the music.

Zim stood proud but waved a finger-less gloved hand in a dismissive gesture. “Of course, we  _ are  _ aesthetically pleasing, now go away, your voices pierce Zim’s fragile human eardrums.” 

Pink Hair looked a little hurt but she did leave followed by her flock, some seemed to be sobbing a little. Dib could swear he heard one of her friends say, “So cute, I can’t  _ even _ .” 

“Did...did you just call me...cute?” Dib asked, blushing a little.

A sharp chord ripped through the air and everyone all around Dib and Zim roared, shouted, and screamed like they were pterodactyls being run over by a semi truck. The entire park was cloaked into pitch black save for the eerie flicker of so many phone screens, glow sticks, and the pink lights of Zim’s own PAK. Zim clutched Dib so tight, Dib was sure his jacket would rip. Dib didn’t know what he expected to see when he glanced down to get out his phone to start recording, but it wasn’t Zim, excited and happy, eyes gleaming and fixed forward. 

Slowly, gradually, both sides of the stage were lit with a dazzling array of blue and green lights, then red, then orange, yellow, pink, and purple. A mural at the center of the stage, on it screamed a smiling rainbow winged yellow fruit bat, baring its fangs at the crowd. There was a gradual rise of smoke and then, finally, three figures and their equipment appeared on stage. Dib had done his research like any good paranormal investigator and recognized them. There was the drummer, Holi, a slightly heavy set woman in a short black Victorian dress, her hair a black shroud over her face and studded with bright red flower barrettes as she began to beat. To the left of her was the guitarist, Joshing, a man taller than Dib and somehow even skinnier. He looked like a vampire, Nosferatu variety, white skinned, bald as hell but dressed in a tight black shirt with the word “SAD” emblazoned on it, tight blue pants, and several colorful belts. 

Then there was the lead singer, Jez. Her skin was paler than her band mates but that was the most and last typical vampire thing about her. Jez’s hair was a dazzling yellow, bright and streaked with bands of black, her shirt and skirt sparkled with rainbow colors, eyes glimmered just as colorful, and she held the shimmering microphone like a lifeline. She seemed nervous, standing in the center of the huge stage, small, alone, afraid, a single woman at the mercy of the masses, but as the crowd grew louder to the call of the music, she rocked side to side, her shoulders moving, hips slowly twisting, and booted feet tapping to the beat of the drums and the riffs of the guitar.

She began singing and Dib felt her words in every atom of his body. He held his phone in one hand and didn’t dare move, he  _ couldn’t  _ move. There was a part of him that shouted about hypnotizing and thralls and being a moth to the flame but most of Dib’s teen heart was rising, bleeding, and crying with the audience, with Jez, and Zim.

_ Zim _ !!!!

As the Fruit Bats played, Dib sort of recognized some of the songs but Zim knew every single word, hooted, chirped, and shouted with the audience. It was nuts for Dib to hear. Beyond that though was Zim, singing along and it  _ wasn’t  _ bad, hell, the alien’s voice wasn’t even half-way terrible.  _ OK, stop being a jerk, Zim can fucking sing! _ Dib thought. He pulled his eyes away from the Fruit Bats and to his boyfriend, yeah, Zim was his boyfriend,  _ fuck it _ . Zim was happy, beautiful, and seeing it made Dib’s heart break a little. 

Zim must’ve felt Dib staring at him because the alien tore his gaze away from Jez and, still singing, smiled at Dib. 

“Rawr.” Dib mouthed. 

“What?!” Zim asked. 

“RAWR!” Dib shouted.

“WHAT?!” Zim asked.

Dib dropped his phone to the grass, grabbed Zim by the shoulders, and kissed Zim, hard. 

All around them, the crowd roared and it felt to Dib as if their cheers were for him and Zim, not for the final chord of the Fruit Bats last song and Dib felt...validated. He had his alien. 

Dib pulled back and he and Zim stared at each other. “Wanna get outta here, take the Voot back-” He began, ready to forget the Swollen Eyeball’s mission and the Fruit Bats, so what if the band was a bunch of blood suckers, they were pretty good and Dib guessed that killing his boyfriends favorite band might create even more trust issues between them.

But, suddenly, a voice, strong, clear, and with a hint of a British accent, rang out. “You’ve been amazing, but before we leave, I’d like to invite one of you to the stage!” Jez said. 

“ZIM, ZIM, PICK ZIM!!!” Zim screamed, jumping, sending Dib to fall forward to the ground. Zim used his PAK legs to shoot above all the heads of the teens. “ZIM, ZIM, JEZ, PICK ZIM!” He waved his arms wildly, just as he did at school. 

Dib rolled his eyes as he stood back up. “No way she’s going to pick you acting like a stalker.”

Given Dib’s track record in life, he really should’ve known better. 

“Ah, yeah, you two, the tall goth and the short green bean of a boy, come up.” Jez cooed. 

Dib felt a trill of caution. “Zim, look,” he started to warn the alien over the clapping and crying of the crowd but as he opened his eyes from a blink, he found the Irken already on the stage, hopping from foot to foot in front of Jez. He snatched up his phone then bolted through the path that the crowd made for him all the way to the stage, he leapt dramatically onto the platform, huffing, panting, and regretting his choices. 

Up close, Jez and her pals were a little less otherworldly than before and Dib forgot his fears. Besides, they were safe as hell with all these people around. Dib had had a mini fantasy of exposing the whole band as vampires and being on the front cover of  _ Crop Circles Magazine _ or even a congratulations from Dark Bootie himself. It was glorious and filled with confetti, all the kids from class apologizing one by one, and his dad on his knees, begging for forgiveness. But, now, it seemed his theory had been wrong. 

“Ahhhhhh,” Jez said and the whole crowd went silent. She was standing in front of Dib and Zim suddenly, looking down at them. Her eyes, like the fruit bat’s on the mural, were locked on to Dib’s despite Zim still giving her praise and telling her about all manner of things. She stepped close to Dib, closer, closer. 

“Hey, Jez, don’t ignore Zim!” Zim shouted, a little of his usual prickly attitude coming through the celebrity worship. 

Jez didn’t so much as look at Zim, she was staring at Dib, intent and locked on to him. No, wait, not on  _ him _ . Jez was staring at the bag. Dib felt nervous, vampires had amazing powers of senses, could she smell the garlic, did she know about the stakes? The silver? 

“Look, uh, I-”

Viper quick, Jez let out a happy squeak, reached out and snatched the bag, taking Dib with it. Zim cried out. The crowd laughed, they  _ laughed _ , as Dib tried to struggle against the singer. She was surprisingly strong. Dib had been right, vampires, they were vampires and they were going to suck Dib’s blood and maybe even Zim’s blood which, if one would go by the whole lice thing, would probably kill them so there was a silver lining at-

Zim struck out at Jez, a laser missing the singer but slicing through the bag. Dib scrambled away from Jez’s claws. Zim went to stand in front of the freed him, PAK lasers out and aimed at Jez and the other two vampires. “Back, mine, the human is  _ mine _ !” Zim snarled. 

Dib smiled. “Awww, thanks Space Boy.” He said.

Despite having alien weaponry pointed at them, Joshing and Holi didn’t seem too worried. They both were smiling madly at Jez who hugged the bag tight in her arms. “Sorry, sorry,” she said right before she stuck her whole head into it and pulled out…

The bag of Skittles…

With her mouth…

She dropped the bag at Zim’s feet and the candy into her hands. “I get so hungry after these things, you wouldn’t  _ believe _ .” She tore open the wrapper and started eating. As she did, color and Dib knew now, life began to return to Jez’s hair, eyes, and skin. She finished her feeding and handed the sweets to Holi who ate, then let Joshing have the rest. 

Ok, so the Fruit Bats were vampires, just not the kind Dib thought they were. Fair enough. Dib sighed. He could still file a report for Swollen Eyeball but he had a feeling they would take this as seriously as the time he told them about the Michigan Cow Snatcher. 

“Those were mine too!” Zim snarled, lasers still aimed at the band. He was terrifying and kinda hot, standing in front of him, weapons a light with brimming ammo. “Zim will annihilate you all!!!”

Dib coughed, loudly. “Hey, so, Zim, we’re kinda like...on a stage, in front of hundreds of people. With cell phones.”

Zim froze, turned, gave a little wave to the crowd, and withdrew his weapons. “Oh, yes, I mean, uh, sure, Zim is honored to give his sugar candies to the Fruit Bats, so very honored!” His smile was a weak one.

“Look, I’ll buy you more on the way home.” Dib hissed.

“Skittles and Fruit Gushers.” Zim said.

“Fine, you brat.” Dib said. 

Zim smiled as he retrieved the bag.

“I’m sorry.” Jez said. “Really, I just get so hungry, ya know, we were supposed to get some snacks before the show but there was this big fire close to the hotel we were staying at and, well, shit was crazy.” Jez winked. “Thanks. How about I give you two free tickets to my shows for life. That work?”

Dib glanced at Zim. 

Zim chuckled. “Yeah, well, Zim guesses that I can for...uh...for...uh...eh…” One of his eyes twitched.

“We forgive you.” Dib said before Zim blue screened. He waved at Jez, gave her one of his emails (Mothborg@whymail.com) and managed to pull the frazzled Zim away from the band. 

When they finally dodged the crowds and got inside the Voot, they simply sat together, quiet for a bit.

Zim, of course, broke the silence. But it wasn't the expected ribbing at Dib for finding candy vampires or even complaints about losing his snacks and nearly having to destroy the least terrible human singer in existence. No, in place of all that, Zim, claws on the controls to the Voot, face hidden by his bangs said in a strangely shaky voice, "Music therapy...is what Gaz calls it." 

Dib opened his mouth but stopped before he said something stupid, not wanting to ruin this rare moment.

Zim continued, looking up and toward the stage, groupies were helping the band load their equipment. Jez and her fellows were still glowing, even at this distance. "The Tallest are gone Dib. I...I…" Zim's gripped tightened on the Voot. He shook his head as if to erase whatever was trying to be said. "Gir went to find you when I...found your little sister instead. She came and-"

Dib wanted to ask Zim to fill in the details, wanted to know when this all happened so he could remember where'd he'd been when For had come for help, there was a large rock of guilt in his gut but Zim kept talking.

"The music Dib...you humans are terrible with so many things, making food, celebrating stupid things, hygiene, technology, and-"

"OK, I get it, we suck." Dib huffed.

"But the music...Zim recalls the bus song and the one about the ants, those were less horrible things, humming them felt pleasant." Zim paused. "When she came, Gazsister sat by Zim and played a new song I’d never heard before from her primitive phone and it…" Were those tears in Zim's eyes? "was like Zim was a part of the Empire again, no, better, it was like...like…"

"You were understood?" Dib said. He’d been there, plenty of times, late at night, unable to sleep, surfing the web with headphones on. 

Zim nodded. "So Zim tried to find more music like this but my Computer kept playing stuff from a genre called 'country' and one horrible, nasty song from 'Rick Roll'."

Dib let out a snort.

Zim glared.

Dib smiled, barely holding back his laughter. "Alright, alright, what happened, please, I'm sorry."

With one last scowl, Zim continued."I commanded SacryGaz to bring more music, she did, and started inviting me over. It wasn’t...as bad as other stuff. We sang, she told me about some barely decent human clothing, and then...she brought over her guitar." Zim's eyes lit up, just as they had during the concert, and he smiled. "Gazfriend said Zim had a good voice, of course  _ I  _ already knew that but it was…" Zim paused again, Dib could actually  _ hear _ Zim's PAK screaming to find the right word for new feelings it still wasn't used to experiencing. “Pleasant to hear it.” 

Dib stared at the alien, shocked. “Friend? Your friends with Gaz?” He’d suspected but to actually have Zim, Zim, who’d declared that Irkens couldn’t love anything other than snacks and destruction, confess that, with the power of music, he had come around to actually expressing less homicidal feelings? Or, at least, concern for another living being other than himself and Gir? “So when Gaz leaves to go to your place, it's because…”

Zim let out a breath, deep, and sweet smelling. He seemed to be  _ shaking _ a little. Dib suddenly noticed that in Zim’s lap was the bag, a little beaten up from the PAK assault but still intact. Dib blinked and wanted to kick himself. There it was, on the grey bag with the Irken symbol, defaced with music lyrics. 

_ Oh... _ Dib was feeling like a terrible investigator. 

Dib recognized the handwriting. Zim’s and at least one lyric in Gaz’s.

“Gaz plays the guitar, Zim sings.” Again, there was a blush of purple across Zim’s face. “That’s music therapy. We make music.” He let out a chuckle. “Gir writes the songs, he’s actually gotten pretty good.” 

“Zim?” Dib had one last question. “When did...when did you know you had feelings for me? Like, ya know, when did you stop wanting to turn me into a live pinata or throw me into a vat of acid?” 

Zim laughed. “Oh, Zim  _ still _ wants to do that!”

Dib’s eyes went wide. “Hey, wait, wait, you said-”

But Zim wasn’t done. “Love of destruction, love of snacks, love of a challenge, of the chase, the conquest.” Zim had raised one claw held into a fist. “I’m filled with these Dibmate, I’m Irken and Irkens unfailingly experience these. Zim frequently wants to stick the Dib into a meat grinder and listen to the screams-”

Dib suddenly felt very, very confused. Part of him was horrified and part of him was actually kinda into it.  _ Fuck being a teen _ . He thought.

“But…” Zim dropped his claw. With a tap, he’d activated the ship’s two way cockpit windows. Zim pulled off his disguise, the two lenses first, then the wig. He looked at Dib, huge ruby eyes still made up with eye shadow and eyeliner, locked on to Dib, his antennae quivering. A sound emitted from Zim, a little strange squeak. “...There were always all these other, other…” Zim’s antennae went flat against his skull and Dib watched, fascinated, as the alien struggled to find words or maybe even fight whatever internal programming was occurring inside. “ _ Annoying _ ,  _ distressing _ , but not actually...unpleasant emotions underneath, sometimes on top of them, weighing the commands and the orders down, all so heavy, shifting and snaking around Zim’s brains and in my PAK and in the corner of my eyes, whenever I looked at you and your family, and you, and you…” Zim hissed, but it wasn’t an angry hiss or even a warning snake hiss but a confused and startled. “Especially after the Tallest…” He shut his eyes and clutched the bag in his lap, hugging it close to himself. “It’s vile and dreadful and  _ painful _ !”

Dib wasn’t sure what to do, seeing Zim like this was awful but also...well, it’s not everyday one gets to see an alien struggle with growing up like a human. Dib felt awkward and worried and confused, afraid of what to do, and kinda turned on which was not exactly heroic or even decent. Man, he really wished he’d snatched some of that weed, he didn’t know if Irkens could get high on anything other than sugar but damn, Zim needed something to chill him out. He tried to think of something to help. 

It actually didn’t take long.

“Zim,” Dib said. 

Zim opened his eyes again and looked at Dib with a narrowed, threatening glare. “Don’t tell me that’s it all amazing and I should be happy and human emotions are  _ so wonderful _ , they aren’t and if Zim could isolate all the 40 schmillon mistakes in my code and annihilate them I would and-” 

“No, I agree with you Space Boy. It sucks.” Dib moved slowly, oh so slowly. He sat on the floor of the Voot, shifting so his legs were crossed and his back was against one wall (actually the wall he’d previously slammed into before). He looked at his phone, searching.

“How do you deal with this garbage in your big head? Zim sees why you are so unhappy all the time!” Zim was saying.

Dib hit play. A song from the Fruit Bats filled the Voot from Dib’s phone. “Same way you do Space Boy. With some sad music.” He set it down next to him then reached out to Zim, carefully, as one would a tiger. Or a trained velociraptor. Both things were stupid as shit but Dib was stupid as shit. Right now his monster alien boyfriend wasn’t sure how to deal with his pain, how to deal with doing the right thing, how to deal with the sheer  _ weight of the world _ both inside and out. But Dib knew a little something about those fights, he was a lean, mean, brave, stubborn, and stupid as shit machine so Dib had to try. He always did, especially when it came to Zim. 

Zim left the Voot seat, setting the bag there, and just as slowly, padded up to Dib. The alien looked down at Dib. “You admit your head is big?” He asked. 

Dib rolled his eyes. “Never, but it is filled with garbage too.”

Zim nodded and then took his hand. 

Dib pulled Zim gently into his Dib’s lap. He expected to get a face full of Irken dino claws but, again, like so many times this day, was surprised to have his theory turned upside down. 

Zim simply lay his head against Dib’s chest and softly began to sing with Jez.

As always, Dib eventually followed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it!!! Shout out to my buds and cheer squad, you know who you are and also to my sis who inspired me to write this. I'd love to do one more story in this verse down the road involving Zim challenging The Fruit Bats to a battle of the bands but for now, peace out!!!!


End file.
